Numb
by MakorraLove97
Summary: CaptainSwan AU: He was a broken man standing on a small ledge. Nothing else to live for… or does he? / He tilted his head slightly to the side and whispered in a tired, broken voice, "I - I don't want to die." / "Then don't." She didn't fully understand why, but a tiny tear slid down her cheek as she stretched out her hand toward him, urging him to take it. "Take my hand."


**Hello fellow readers! How are you? So, this idea randomly came to mind one night while I was writing another story and I just had to write it. It's my first _Once Upon a Time_ story and I'm currently writing another. Anyways, I'm a bit nervous about this one and I hope you don't judge too harshly. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! :)**

 **The song in italics is: Black Sabbath - _Falling Off The Edge Of The World_.**

 **Please leave a comment/review below letting me know your thoughts/opinions/etc. I'd greatly appreciate any and all feedback from you guys because your kind words are extremely helpful and encouraging. They really mean a great deal to me. Thank you!**

 **I own NOTHING; I do not own Once Upon a Time.**

 **WARNING : ****Tragedy.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _Help me_

 _Tell me I'm sane_

 _I feel a change in the earth and the wind_

 _And the rain,_ _Save me_

 _By turning away_

 _You know, I've seen some visions of Hell_

 _And I've heard what they say_

* * *

 _Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly? To have all the pain and tolls of the world be left behind and forgotten? To close your eyes, spread your arms, and simply let it all… go?_

* * *

Turning the key in the lock, Emma reached out and pushed open the door with her fingertips. The door swung open and she stumbled tiredly inside, her heels held in one hand while the other lifted to touch the side of her head. A groan slipped from her mouth from the dull, throbbing headache that was pounding behind her eyes. Every blink of an eye sent daggers to her brain.

 _At least the bleeding had stopped_ , she mused bitterly.

Her eyes scanned the darkness of her apartment before she flicked on the light, revealing the cold, empty place where every morning she would wake up to and every night she would return to. The light seemed inordinately bright and it burned her eyes, enhancing her vile headache.

Her fingers loosened their hold on the straps of her heels, letting them carelessly drop to the floor with a loud _thump!_ Dropping her keys and mail on the counter, she strolled to the refrigerator in hopes to grab a bite to eat before taking a bath and climbing into bed, but her wandering eyes were greeted with no more than two beer bottles and a block of cheese.

"Perfect." Emma muttered under her breath, slamming the refrigerator door shut. She rubbed her hands over her face, a heavy sigh spilling from her lips. When was the last time she went shopping for food besides grabbing a few bottles of beer from a nearby deli? She'd been busy with work; hunting down fugitives and staying up late on fake dates before making her move and arresting the idiot who decided to skip bail was an endless career that seemed to never give her a minute break.

She was exhausted and her body was sore. She should have figured the moment the guy realized who she really was he would try to make a run for it. She caught up with him easily, despite the high heels she wore, and she _had_ him - until he decided to abruptly spin around and collide his fist with the side of her head. They spent quite a few minutes struggling on the ground, though eventually a kick to the groin stilled his movements and two officers came rushing to her aid, hauling him away.

She planned on a nice, warm bath that her aching body most definitely desired, however she couldn't bring herself to start the water. She stood perfectly still in the bathroom, suddenly not feeling so well. Her eyelids fell shut in a failed attempt to block out the blasting music coming from the other side of the thin wall. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot and a suffocating warmth surrounded her, making it hard to breathe. Whether it was from the exhaustion, the built up of days without more than an hour of sleep, the pile of never-ending bills, the pain meds, the torturous headache, or just from the long, tiring night, she did not know.

What she _did_ know was that she needed to get out of there.

Not bothering to change out of her tight fitted dress and into something more comfortable, she hurried out of the bathroom, snatching her keys from the counter, and running out the door. It was as if the apartment was closing in on her, strangling the air from her lungs, and she all of a sudden couldn't breathe. She needed somewhere quiet, where she could clear her head, and catch a breath of fresh air.

She willed her tired legs to continue climbing the endless staircase, her feet taking two steps at a time. She didn't have a set destination in mind, but as she pushed a door open with her hands she stumbled onto the roof of the building where her subconscious had led her.

Her eyes were closed as she leaned back against the door, enjoying the feeling of the crisp air breeze across her face. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with fresh air. She savored the peace and quiet that engulfed her; the shrill chirp of the night crickets and the faint music of howling winds mixed with the sounds of her own soft breaths reached her ears, easing the tension in her bones.

That's all she needed. Some fresh, cool air and to be alone -

"Oh, my God!" She shrieked when she pried open her eyelids, her hands flying to cover her agape mouth. She stared straight ahead at the man standing perfectly still on the ledge. He had his back to her, his head titled downward with his eyes focusing on the moving vehicles in the street and the people hurrying home, passing on the pavement - all continuing on happily with their lives. They all looked so small as if they were tiny ants from where he stood unnoticed, high above them.

He jumped, almost losing his balance at the sound of her unexpected appearance. He stretched out his arms to keep himself steady on the small ledge, knowing leaning forward by a mere inch would send him toppling to his demise. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, his breath catching in his throat. Daring to glance over his shoulder, he offered a grimace before turning back to the world below. "You know love, it's best not to startle a man standing over a ledge."

"I…" Emma didn't quite know what to say. Never had she particularly been in this situation before. Should she leave? Approach him? Call 911? Her mouth opened and closed several times, trying to string together the right words to say, but nothing seemed to slide off her tongue. Instead, she kept it simple. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. You…" She let out a shaky laugh, "You were definitely not something, or rather _someone_ , I was expecting to run into tonight."

"I could imagine." A low chuckle rumbled inside of him. "It's not often we run into people contemplating whether they should take a step over the ledge, no?"

"That's about right." She took a small step toward him, being cautious of her actions and not wanting to frighten him any further. She licked her lips, debating on her next set of words. "I'm Emma Swan. And you are?"

He tilted his head back, his crystal orbs gazing up at the night sky with its thousands of twinkling stars. He didn't say anything for a moment, his attention solely on the single cloud that still lingered in the sky, and for a second she believed he may not have heard her, or chose to have ignored her. Then, he spoke quietly, "Emma… a beautiful name." She couldn't see him with his back to her, but he smiled softly. "Killian Jones."

She pushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear, her cheeks reddening. "So, _Killian_." She didn't know why, but she somewhat liked the taste of his name on her lips. "What brings you out up here so late at night?" _Keep it short, causal._

He smirked, appreciating the small effort she was making to a man that was on the verge of death. He raised an eyebrow and jokingly asked, "You mean besides from the view?"

 _He's joking - that's a good sign, wasn't it?_ She silently prayed it was. Maybe he'll begin to trust and listen to her when she tells him not to jump, to not throw his life away. "Yeah," She bit down on her smile, "besides for that." _Don't do anything to provoke him._

He carelessly shrugged. "It's a quiet place to come and think, wouldn't you agree?" The words couldn't form fast enough in her brain, couldn't slip from her mouth before he continued to speak. "So tell me, love. What brings you out here in the cold, early hours of the night?" He twisted his head over his shoulder just enough to sneak a quick glance before he felt his balance sway. Fear gripped at his heart with cold claws; his stomach twisted painfully, pushing bile up his throat; his breath catching in his throat.

Emma sprinted forward, breathless. _No, no, no, no, NO!_ A wave of intense and terrifying anxiety washed over her, panic itching under her mind was racing as her heart leaped into her throat. _Please, don't fall. Please…_

He regained his balance quickly while once again facing forward. _Don't look back_ , he kept reminding himself. With his eyelids falling shut, he inhaled deeply - his heart rapidly beating against his ribcage. His Adam's apple bobbled up and down as he swallowed thickly, fear upon his skin.

Killian licked his lips nervously, perspiration dripping down his forehead. "Especially in that dress. I assume a date? He's a lucky lad."

She didn't understand how he could be having a conversation with her as if there was absolutely nothing wrong in the situation they were in. The wind was growing colder by the second; she felt another chilly breeze, sending goosebumps sprawling across her skin. Crossing her arms over her chest, she braced herself against the bitter air. "Not exactly. It was more for work."

"Well, from the quick look I managed to sneak, you look lovely." Only knowing her for a short period of time didn't matter to him, not when he heard the beautiful sound of her laughter. As small and short as the laugh was, it was music to his ears. If he were to fall forward and to never wake up again, he would be completely content with that if her laughter was the last sound he was to hear. He wished he could see her smile, he imagined it would be just as beautiful, but he couldn't risk turning around again. The wind was picking up, the cold was numbing his body, and he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he would last standing on the small, slippery ledge.

"Emma," He breathed her name, a blissful taste left in his mouth, "it's been a pleasure chatting with you, but it's time for you to head inside."

"I could say the same to you, too." She shook her head, her golden hair whipping madly in the wind. "Come on, follow me back to my apartment. I could offer you a bottle of beer and… and some cheese?" The corners of her mouth rose slightly, letting out a small chuckle. "Or we could just stick with beers. Probably better off with just that. You could crash on my couch? I don't mind. It's not the most _comfortable_ , but it's pretty decent."

"I appreciate the offer, love. I really do." He sighed heavily. "However, I came up here for a reason. I know what I need to do and there's only one way I'm stepping off this ledge. Now, I'd prefer if you didn't witness it."

"I'm not going anywhere, Killian." If only he knew how stubborn she could be. If he thought telling her to head back inside and forget what she saw was going to work, he had another thing coming. "Why don't you tell me why you're up here? We could figure out whatever's bothering you together. Okay? Give me the chance to help you."

He desperately wanted to be able to turn around and properly face her. To have her look him in the eyes and see just how truly broken he was; he was too damaged to the point where he couldn't possibly be helped - couldn't be saved, not even by her. She may like to think she could, but in the end, she wasn't God nor a Savior and he was a helpless and hopeless cause.

"It doesn't mat-"

"Of _course_ it matters why you're up here. Don't even try to use that lame excuse. You obviously felt the need to come up on the roof and stand on a ledge at now - what? - one in the morning? You need someone to talk to and I'm here, willing to listen and wanting to help. So, let me." She took another step forward, standing just a small distance from where he stood. She could reach out and her fingertips would be able to touch his back, but she fought the urge to do so. _Don't make the wrong move. Don't scare him off to his death._

His voice died in this throat before he could push the words out of his mouth. He didn't know what she expected him to say. He wanted nothing but the pain to go away, willed to fly away and leave everything else behind. He had been through so much, through Hell and back on repeat. He could end it all and leave this bitter world behind. Then, there was this perfect stranger wanting to help him… there was Emma.

And he wasn't sure if he really wanted to go after all.

It took her only until that moment to notice the paper that he held in a clenched fist with his left hand. She tilted her head to the side, not understanding how she missed that before. The wind blew the edges of the paper that stuck out from his fist, but he held onto it for dear life regardless. Straining her eyes to see through the darkness, she couldn't make out the words, only that it was a newspaper.

"What's that?" She nodded her head toward the paper in his hand, despite that he couldn't see the motion. "You… you brought a newspaper to your suicide?" _A suicide note?_ She noticed the way his fingers twitched and every muscle in his body tensed at her words. _Think before you speak._

"Listen, I didn't mean it that wa-"

His throat was tight, but he found his voice anyway. "It's why I'm up here." He licked his dried, chapped lips. Was that the sound of his heartbeat pounding excessively loud in his ears? "You want to know why I'm up here? This is why."

He waved the newspaper in his hand, motioning her to take it from him. She hesitated before reaching for it; her movements cautious when pulling the paper from his hand, her fingers lightly brushing against his skin. It was hard to see with the lack of light what words the ink formed on the paper, yet it didn't prevent her from trying. She brought it close to her face, her eyes squinting as she focused on each word that stretched across the front cover of the newspaper.

"Who's Mr. Gold?" Emma asked, looking down at a picture of a man on the cover. He wore a twisted, sadistic smirk with his eyes staring straight at the camera with a darkened, murderous look in his eyes. His suit must have costed him millions - if she had to guess - and he held onto a simple black cane with his right hand. Just the mere image of him sent a disturbing chill up her spine.

"A bastard who should rot in bloody Hell. _That's_ who he is." He growled through clenched teeth. "That man is a self-absorbed, controlling _coward_ who gets rid of what's no longer a use to him." His voice grew thick with emotion, yet that didn't stop him. "He was arrested and charged with the death of his ex-wife, Milah."

She lowered the arm that held the newspaper down to rest at her side, her eyes staring at his back for a long moment. _Milah._ Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her mouth pressed into a thin line. _Who was she to him?_ "And I take it you and Milah were… close." It wasn't much of a question.

"Aye," Killian whispered, a tearful glaze blurring his crystal blue eyes, "we were. She left her husband a little over a year ago. She just picked up and left him without a single word. She didn't love him, not anymore. She never went into details with me, but told me he was involved in criminal activities although that didn't entirely bother her at first. She loved him despite what he did for a living and he seemed to have loved her. Then he became greedy, arrogant, hateful, and he always had to get what he wanted regardless of who suffered in the process. He treated her more like a possession than a person, paid little attention to her, and she finally had enough."

"She wanted to live and he was holding her back. It was all about what _he_ wanted with his business always coming first. So, she left. I met her in a bar one night and we…" He felt a tear roll down his cheek. "We fell in love. It was when we were starting a life together Gold showed up at our doorstep with a menacing look on his face. I could practically see the venom dripping from his mouth and he didn't give me the chance to shut the door before he barged inside."

"The moment he laid eyes on her and she saw him standing in our house…" He shook his head, releasing a bitter laugh. "I have never seen someone look more terrified in their entire life. She told him to leave, but he refused. She disappeared without a trace for over a year and there was no way he was letting her slip from his grasp again. Not so easily, anyway. They shouted at one another for a good while before she slapped him across the face, demanding for him to leave."

"And did he?" She asked quietly. "Did he leave?"

He memory of that night was imbedded into his brain. Every time he closed his eyes he was reminded - _haunted_ \- with the images of what happened that night on constant repeat. He wanted so desperately to just _forget_. _If I take a step over this ledge the constant, torturous pain would finally stop… I could finally forget,_ he kept telling himself.

"Oh, he left." He spat, "Right after he pulled out his little silver gun and shot a bullet right through her chest."

Emma gasped, and before she could stop herself, she had already murmured, "He… he shot her?"

"Now if you look at that article there, you'll see he was found not guilty of her murder. I was an eye witness to her death, but none of that bloody mattered. I've no connections, barely any money, and Gold is a rich, powerful man and he's free to live the rest of his miserable life while Milah's body rots six feet under." He arched an eyebrow. "Don't you just love how fair this world is?"

"Wait," She raised her hand, her heartbeat increasing as everything began to piece together, "the world's not fair, I know, but is _that_ why you're up here standing on a ledge? That's why you're ready to end your life?"

He chose not to answer her, but that didn't stop her. She wasn't done. "Killian, _think_ about what you're doing! Gold might have got off on the murder charge, but that's no reason _you_ should end your life. He'll get what's coming to him, I promise. The bad guys usually get what they deserve, just give it time. He can't always get away. No one's perfect. One day he will slip up and he'll spend the rest of his pathetic days behind bars. You can't just give up, you -"

"You don't get it!" He yelled over the howling winds. "This isn't a bloody fairytale!" His balanced swayed forward a little bit and he was almost positive he was going to fall. He held his breath, forcing more weight on the heels of his feet. He waited until he was sure he was steady before he spoke.

"What have I to live for? I've no one, Swan." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to keep it in check. "My mother died giving birth and my father abandoned my brother and me when we were young, leaving us to fend for ourselves. We tried foster care, but when they began separating us my brother nearly took their heads off."

He let out a shaky breath, tears brimming his eyes. "We made it pretty far on our own, living on the streets, stealing a piece of bread when given the chance. He took care and watched out for me. Until the day came where we were caught. I stole food from a market we were passing and the owner saw. He chased after us with cops, of course being right bloody there. We ran and hid in a dumpster for quite a while until the sun fell and the moon rose to its rightful place. It was a day later when my brother grew an infection and with no medical care, no one to help despite how much I begged… Liam died in my arms."

He closed his eyes, another tear sliding down his frozen cheek. "Then there was Milah. The one good thing I had left in my life… And she was ripped away from me."

The cold air was numbing his body, his knees growing weak. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last balancing on the small ledge. _Oh, how easy it would be to simply lean forward and let it all go…_ Why couldn't he just do it already?

It was only a matter of time.

"I know what that's like." She saw him shaking his head and she resisted the urge to stamp her foot like a child. "No, I _do_! My mother may not have died, but _both_ of my parents abandoned me, leaving me on the side of the road. I had no one for such a long time. My life was skipping around between foster homes, never being able to find a permanent family who actually wanted me. The only family I actually managed to be welcomed into at most lasted for a month before they found out she was pregnant; they were expecting their own child, which was a miracle, and they no longer needed or wanted me."

"I finally made a friend who was also in the foster care system. We were close… she was my best friend. We never judged one another despite how hard it was for me to open up or how trouble always lingered in her shadow. Now? I don't know what happened, but we drifted apart. She left. Then I continued to grow up alone until the day came where I finally found the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I loved him so much, Killian. The thing is, you know what happened? He left, too. Everyone in my life always seems to leave."

She tossed her arms in the air, allowing them to carelessly fall back to her sides. "But you know what? I'm still here. I'm not standing on a ledge, willing to throw my life away. I was close, don't get me wrong. Two years ago I swallowed a bottle of pills. I closed my eyes one minute, thinking all my pain would finally be gone, then three days later I woke up. I stared bitterly at the ceiling, screaming and cursing at whoever bothered to save me. Apparently I forgot to pay my rent so my landlord came searching for me. My door was left open and he found me passed out on the bathroom floor with an empty pill bottle in my hand so he called an ambulance."

"I was angry at first that he wasted his time saving me. Now, I see it as a blessing. I don't have the perfect life, I don't have anyone and I'm once again alone, but regardless of all of that… I'm _thankful_ that I'm alive." She released her hold on the newspaper, letting it be carried away by the wind. "Don't let what's in that article be the reason why you throw the rest of your life away."

"He'll come after me. Just by being with Milah he threatened he'd chop off my hand for even daring to touch what was his. Emma, I testified against him. Do you have any idea what he will do to me? I… I just want the pain to stop. I want it all to just _stop_."

"I know." She softly said, her voice beginning to betray her. Her heart bled for him and a well of sadness hit her chest, tears burning in her green eyes. "But this isn't the way. It's a _coward's_ way out. Gold's a coward. Don't be like him, Killian. Milah wouldn't want this for you… _I_ don't want this for you."

Killian didn't know if he was crying or not, but he couldn't feel his body anymore. The cold air was all he felt along with the excruciating pain that swelled in his chest where his heart was rapidly beating. He couldn't breathe. Cold tears streamed down his cheeks as he choked on a fierce sob, his body trembling slightly.

He knew he shouldn't, but he slowly turned around to finally look Emma in the eyes. The thought of her being absolutely breathtaking was the first thought that filled his mind and he cursed himself for not daring to face her sooner.

If he were to die that night, he would without a doubt want her face to be the last thing he saw on this cruel, deceitful world.

"Emma," He breathed her name softly, a faint smile ghosting his lips. His piercing blue eyes met her green ones for the first time that night and he never wanted tear his gaze away. She was memorizing; her golden hair curled down her back, the pink fitted dress she wore showing off each and every one of her perfect curves. He had to smile at the fact that she was barefoot. He tilted his head slightly to the side and whispered in a tired, broken voice, "I - I don't want to die."

"Then don't." She didn't fully understand why, but a tiny tear slid down her cheek as she stretched out her hand toward him, urging him to take it. "Take my hand."

She had a small smile gracing her lips and his heart skipped a beat. He had wondered when he first heard her voice what her smile would look like. It was beautiful, just as she was.

Killian's eyes flickered from her hand back to her welcoming eyes and he hesitated. His lips parted as if to say something to her, but nothing came out. His feet began to ache, his arms were sore, his knees buckled…

And he fell.

* * *

In that moment, he felt all the pain, all the misery, all the disappoint and tolls of the world leave his body. A huge weight had lifted off his shoulders and it was almost like he was flying. Why didn't he do this sooner?

He heard a faint scream, but it shortly disappeared as did the rest of the bitter world he lived on for so many painful years. His thoughts drifted to the beautiful blonde - _Emma_ \- and wondered when he would see her again. _Hopefully soon_ , he mused with a crooked grin stretched across his face.

Time seemed to fly by, just as he was, and soon he no longer felt anything at all.

Killian was numb.

And though he didn't know it, so was Emma.

* * *

 _I've got to be strong_

 _I'm falling off the edge of the world_

 _Think you're safe, but you're wrong_

 _We are falling off the edge of the world_


End file.
